


Poppies

by puffintalia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Study, F/M, World War I, but i thought it was best to warn, only referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puffintalia/pseuds/puffintalia
Summary: With all their bickering, it was so hard to remember the time when he would have died for her. A vow for eternity starts to lose its passion when eternity is far, far too real an option.
Relationships: Belgium/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Poppies

**Author's Note:**

> I'm worried even mentioning any war is disrespectful but I don't think this is. By that I mean three people have told me it isn't. Please don't get mad at me, if you think it's inappropriate, just tell me and I'll take it down.

They hate each other, but not like England and France. More subtle. More genuine. Less overdramatic. Overbearing, self-absorbed. They're sick of each other.

And yet Arthur would die to protect her. Has died to protect her. 

She's a memory, an old devotion. A ghost to him, but one that's outlived its ghosthood, lingering in his life too long for comfort, and sometimes he wishes she was nothing more than a memory. But she's still there. 

And he still comes back. 

Poppies bloomed on Flanders fields, and yet nowadays he can't stand the sight of her. Maybe it's the memories that did it: the pressure, the guilt, the trauma. Maybe that's no more than a lame excuse and they've just grown apart, the strings of their fate untwisting as easily as they'd come together. No war to bring them together anymore. They have room to fight to their hearts' content. 

But there was a time, Arthur remembers, when he would have done anything for her. Made any sacrifice she asked for. They were inseparable, at one point. Clinging to the same rock in the storm. Finding strength in each other. 

And somehow, despite their arguments... he can't say he regrets it. 

He brings her a poppy sometimes. Always. Every year, right at the start of summer, the first drop of scarlet amongst the wheat fields. And she cries into his shoulder but it's okay. We're okay. We're going to be okay. As long as poppies grow in the sea of gold. 

He lost so much for her, fought a hopeless war, wasted four years in a defenceless position, all for the hope of saving her. On the worst days, where the world is grey and everything leads to more relentless bickering, he wonders if his sacrifice was worth it. The world has moved on from them. Empires fallen, time kicked back into motion. A moment of silence on the fields of Flanders fades into the realities of a new world and it all rushes over his head. She's further than ever, pretending to be so close. How much did he lose for this charade? Some days, he thinks he can't take it. 

But she brings a cup of coffee and a box of chocolates and they sit and talk it out. Look back on the memories. And when she smiles, her eyes light up like the sun on golden stalks and he knows it was worth it all. 


End file.
